


sea through voices

by mosaicos



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosaicos/pseuds/mosaicos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But it was not comforting, it didn't make him feel safe. His father's voice travelled distressed, panicked, anguished through the currents--and Rin followed it, a heavy, cold grip around his heart.</p><p>**mermen au inspired by rolic's beautiful art...still crying</p>
            </blockquote>





	sea through voices

The object was strange, foreign. It was spherical, had a reflective surface, a red-squared piece of cloth hovering over it. He reached out with his hand and touched it, hesitantly. The object moved along with the light push but did nothing in return. Small bubbles whirred upwards from the movement, and nothing else. What _was_ this thing? What did it _do_?

After a few moments, he decided to swim under it to get a better look at it. It was a slow paddle, cautious, wondering about the curious object before him, as if the other side of the sphere would hold the answers he sought for.

Before he could reach the other side, however, he got yanked back by his wrist. There is a scuffle, bubbles and sand in disarray, tails slapping startled at water.

"Don't!" the imperative is angry, a near shout.

The object moves haphazardly too, from all the movement behind it, but remains as passive as it had previously been. 

"It's not natural. It's not _safe_ either. It comes from the world on the other side of the surface. —we have to leave."

A clicking sound suddenly comes from the object, a mechanical sound unlike anything he's ever heard in the ocean. Something urgent, like fear that he hadn't quite yet experienced, surges from within him.

" _Rin._ "

He turns his head towards the voice of his father, snapping out of it; and, quickly, without a word to refute him, Rin whips his tail to catch up, holding onto his father's hand to swim away. His father is the fastest shark in these waters. The strongest, too. Rin moves his tail to help against the currents but it's mostly just his father leading the way, making a pathway through the rivulets of blue before them.

Rin is afraid he's angered his father; disobeyed some silent command he was supposed to be aware of. However, when his father turns to look at the sad expression on his face, there's a wide smile, sharp fangs showing, red eyes spirited. 

And, just like that, Rin's frown disappears, putting together a smile just like his father's own. The older shark leads them further on, then downwards, through crevices and rock formations, across colourful coral reefs and between schools of fish that scatter at their presence. This part of the ocean is theirs; they respect it and they take only what they need. The shiver his family belongs to has lived in it happily for centuries, and in peace with the other sea species. 

Rin himself carries the hair colouring of his mother, as does his sister, but it's the scorching red eyes that mark the lineage of his father's shiver. One day, when he grows older, Rin will also lead his family. He expects to learn a lot from his father; to respect others, to be just and fair, to swim as fast, to become incredibly strong, to recognise the danger that comes from the other side of the surface and be smart enough to handle it properly.

Rin hopes that, when the day comes, he can make his father proud. Rin wishes for nothing else but to be like Toraichi, the fastest and strongest shark he's ever known.

"Dad! Let's race!"

And he will hold tightly onto his duty.

***

Duty, a reality that becomes real too soon.

The comings and goings of the world beyond theirs was unknown to the creatures that roamed the ocean. They would get inklings of such happenings by subtle changes in their world; of corals dying out, of murkier water, of objects that tangled on their fins and limbs, their removal marked by cuts and bruises.

The most significant and terrifying show that the worlds at both ends of the surface were coming dangerously close together was the _hunting_.

It is normal for the species in the ocean to hunt; to gather food to feed oneself and one's cluster. It is the way their world works—has _always_ worked. But, troubling as it were, the once apex predators that were the sharks have now become prey, too. Their world was starting to lose its balance, the well-set rules in the ocean getting blurred by invisible, thin lines that tangled around their necks, that caught the ends of their tails; by the sharp end of a harpoon piercing easily through their rough skin; by nets catching them off guard while they swam. 

The ocean isn't as blue as it used to be before--or perhaps it isn't as blue as Rin once thought it was. It's darker now, it has depth, it reeks of blood constantly, and the currents carry the dying screams, clicks, and whistles of other creatures of the ocean reaching an early death. 

His eyes constantly see red anymore.

And for what? 

Seven years ago, his father was amongst the many sharks hauled over the surface. Rin had watched, with shaking hands holding tight onto a rock, as his father struggled, tried to cut the ropes with the sharp claws at the end of his hands, and found himself thrashing closer and closer to the surface, until he completely disappeared and Rin could no longer hear him. 

Sounds were very important in the depths of the ocean; songs, calls, clicks, whistles. It helped locate each other, to usher warnings amongst them, to symbolise their presence—that they were _alive_.

At the tender age of ten, Rin never recalled being in the ocean without the sound presence of his father, without his voice piercing through the sea. It had been comfort and security. 

To find himself in an ocean that didn't hold that presence anymore, it had crumbled Rin's world to pieces, and he didn't, at the time, move from his hiding place for what seemed like hours, absolutely terrified.

It was really just a matter of minutes before he heard his father's voice again.

But it was not comforting, it didn't make him feel safe. His father's voice travelled distressed, panicked, anguished through the currents—and Rin followed it, a heavy, cold grip around his heart.

The sight before him, when he found his father, sunken at the bottom of the sea, marked him for life. Blood was trailing from him, marking where he lay; his fins were gone, his tail paralysed, deep cuts across his sides and over the gills on his throat. 

"—Rin," it was supposed to have been a hunting expedition, where father would teach son the way their family always hunted for food. Instead—

Instead... tragedy had struck.

The strongest and fastest shark Rin ever knew could not swim anymore, not like this; the strongest and fastest shark Rin ever knew was like lead, fast-bound to the ocean floor, unable to float, with the only purpose to bleed to death, disoriented and powerless.

"Dad... _Dad!_ "

***

Unfortunately, Toraichi was not the first nor the last shark to suffer this fate. Shivers were dwindling, their numbers decreasing at an alarming rate. The experience had steeled the now leader of one of the few remaining shivers of great whites, Rin, and made him a strong advocate against the world above the surface, taking in the sea creatures that had lost their own clusters. Usually it was his sister, Gou, who dealt with the diplomacy of things, while he acted as leader and protector, provider and hunter for his own.

It is not that Rin was unkind, as his actions would show that he actually was—very much—kind, but he had closed himself off after what he had witnessed seven years ago. He was difficult to approach and he didn't spend a lot of time with those in his own shiver.

Revenge was moot; survival was the only way they would push through.

But, sometimes, as he would stare with red in his eyes into the depths of the ocean before him, he would think he could hear a faint song, a voice carrying over very, very faintly over the brush of the waves, over the unseen currents, over the swimming of other species. 

It was a sad voice, brimming with something indescribable that managed to grip his heart, just like that time, seven years ago, and he wondered just how many more lives were being strangled and cut away for a reason that held no value nor reason to them.

***

One day, Rin decided to venture out and follow the sad voice that kept plaguing him from a distance. Mostly because it was becoming fastidious, but also because if there was a hurt creature nearby, it was by no means dying yet. Compassion would ruin him, as his sister often said.

The trail of the sad voice led him through deep crevices near the bottom, tail disturbing sand as he swam, where the ocean was mostly empty and hardly any fish roamed. There wasn't even the looming shadows over the surface, crossing the ocean menacingly. There were probably a number of reasons for the lack of anything but the sad voice ringing in his ears, but all those assumptions escaped Rin when he stopped by the edge of a coral reef, seaweed licking at his arms, polyps reacting to his presence, hair swaying with the calm waters.

There, in front of him, was a creature he hadn't dealt with much before. It was much larger than him, its tail definitely stronger than his own, white and black patches across its middle—and sandy hair on his head; exactly like the sand it— _he_ was resting on. 

A killer whale.

Don't they usually travel in groups, following a strong matriarch, hunting and working together to keep their matrilines functional?

This was new to Rin, who had never interacted with one, much less been so close to just _one_ individual orca. They had suffered from the recent huntings, but they were stronger than sharks.

Was he singing sadly because his matriline had fallen victim to the brutality thrust upon them by the vessels above the surface?

"Hey."

The killer whale stops singing, shoulders shifting and rolling himself onto his side; sand flustered about him, dusting his expression momentarily. It was surprise on his bright, green eyes, however. 

Rin could tell he was strong; he must be fast, too.

"He-Hey!" 

The whale's voice cracked, but soon a smile swooped across his expression—as did he, swimming towards the startled shark. 

"Did you hear me?"

The hands on his arms were tight, intrusive, bursting into his personal space.

"—I'm, more surprised that you're not injured or anything. From all your lamenting."

But they were also warm, and despite the warning in his heart, Rin didn't feel threatened by the larger predator with the bright smile and kind eyes and lofty laughter— _much_ jovial than his voice when he sang.

That was how Rin became acquainted with Makoto, a killer whale who became lost in the infinite expanse of the ocean.

***

"You don't sing often anymore," Rin comments one day, grumpily, looking over at Makoto who was lying face down on the sand. Streaks of sunlight played over the screen of the water and marbled his back with bright lines.

Makoto humoured him, as usual, peering over his bangs at the shark, "I do," and Rin scoffed, rolling his eyes, "you're just used to it now."

It was true; Rin had met Makoto weeks ago, and while the killer whale didn't feel too comfortable joining Rin's shiver (he felt the rest would feel uncomfortable with him), he kept at a close distance whenever they travelled. Rin could always find him when Makoto whistled and called for him, in any case.

"It's not _sad_ anymore, I guess," and, to that, Makoto smiled a little more sincerely, before repeating.

"I guess."

***

Rin was grateful for Makoto's addition to his shiver—even if he wasn't _technically_ part of it. Most other adult male sharks were caught and hauled over the surface, meaning that most of those he considered his own were female and children, and injured males. He didn't doubt their abilities, but he was afraid they would put themselves in danger—which was why he overtook hunting duties, usually solo.

With Makoto around, they would hunt together. It was exciting, it was more fun than usual, and Rin got to find out just how _powerful_ the kick of Makoto's tail was.

Hunting wasn't just about hunting anymore; it helped Rin breathe a little, enjoy the currents he's always loved, let himself go and swim with all his strength, with no restraint.

After so long of not working the muscles in his tail, however, it was no surprise how often Makoto would take the lead. He hated when Makoto would stop, wait on him, and hold onto his hands, pulling him along. 

Makoto would sing, loudly, amidst whistles and clicks that came naturally, a happy song that seemed to come from deep within his chest, enough to rob him of his breath.

It filled Rin with something ridiculous, making the water seem warmer than what it was. 

Hunting was so much easier, too. Rin and Makoto would return to his shiver's current refuge with large fish to complement what fish the other available predators would catch nearby. 

As Rin sat by his sister to eat, as was the usual way they did things, his gaze lingered on Makoto, hovering by the corals further away. 

There was loneliness there, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the reason.

"Is Makoto alright?"

His sister's question catches him by surprise. Makoto, despite the aloofness he was showing towards joining the shiver, had become friends and well-liked by most. His sister, especially, held affection towards the singular killer whale. It was like her to notice things Rin would easily take for granted.

"What do you mean?"

Sharp teeth cracked at the fish's spine, raw meat the nourishment he was needing.

"He doesn't seem to like singing much, does he? How will he find his pod again?"

Rin frowned, eating the last of his fish and running a hand over his hair. He didn't like to think about the idea that Makoto would leave one day, but he didn't understand his sister's question at all.

"He sings _too_ much."

The questioning look Gou gave him worried him, and instead he tangled his hand in her hair, making a mess of it. 

"Don't worry about it. He's fine."

Rin thinks, hopes, that Makoto is fine.

***

It takes Rin a couple more days to figure out that, apparently, no one else can hear Makoto when he sings.

Nor when he whistles and clicks his teeth together.

***

It takes a dark, dark night, with no moonlight for Rin to learn more about the whale that is becoming so constant in his day-to-day.

Makoto calls for him, which is unsurprising; calling him at night, while everyone rests, that worries him. 

(While hunting, earlier that day, Rin and Makoto had parted ways momentarily; in the open sea, Rin saw— _heard_ —a matriline swimming through, singing and whistling and clicking. His heart had stopped cold, expecting to see Makoto smile at him good bye, but there had been no such thing.

Rin swam back to meet with the orca afterward, and kept his damn mouth shut about what he had seen.)

If Makoto said goodbye to him, this time, he would not forgive him; Rin would not allow it.

Instead, Makoto leads him to an underwater rock formation, treading dangerously close to the surface. His hesitation was clear.

"It's alright, Rin. It's safe. I promise."

And, if there were someone Rin wanted to trust and trusted more than he would give them credit for, it was Makoto. Which is why he followed and reclined over the rock Makoto was already on.

Expectant for the inevitable farewell, he turned his head to face Makoto, only to be met with wide, green eyes looking upwards, out towards the surface; out towards what Rin considers the screen between life and death of their kind. 

"I want to show you the surface one day."

It's a startling statement, and Rin doesn't know what to do with it. Not when Makoto is smiling, sounds so hopeful, and looks like he's staring into depths that bring him joy.

Rin refuses to look up.

"I know it's scary, and we've suffered a lot because of it, but it's not all miserable," his voice is quiet, warm, and Rin realises he's grown so used to it being part of _his_ ocean; if it were gone, he would lose everything again. "I want you to see what I've seen."

It's not clear to him when their hands entwine together. It's not clear to him when Makoto leans closer.

He misses it, the aurora borealis shining green and milky over where ocean meets sky, but sees it reflected on Makoto's face. 

It doesn't really give him a direct answer at all, but when Makoto turns to face him, leans close, and kisses him, it tells him loud and clear that Makoto won't leave him.

***

Makoto's singing can't be heard by his kind, nor the other fish and mammals around him.

In return, Makoto's imperfection runs stronger in that he is deaf to the singing of others. He can't hear Rin outside of his normal voice, could never have heard the matriline swimming through.

That is the case of his lonely existence.

Rin, however, became an outlier in his existence. He _could_ hear Makoto sing, against all odds, for some spectacular reason. Rin could recognise Makoto's existence in the way that no one else could, turned his song from sad to jovial, where laughter conquered over his fear of never being recognised and belonging.

Rin, in what he had lost, had given enough reason to live to another lost soul. 

"I'm _not_ lost!"

"You _were_ , shut up, stop twisting my words around." 

Makoto laughs warmly into their embrace and kisses Rin again, forcing his scowl into a disgruntled smile. 

"I found you."

"Shuddup."

Rin was not about to correct him and say that _he_ had found Makoto. Not the other way around.

***

Along the coastline, in a non-descript small town in Japan, Haru sits on the harbour and waits for the curious pair of sea creatures to appear. In his story, he had been saved from drowning by a killer whale and a great white shark that happened to be swimming in the same stretch of ocean as him. Haru smiles as he hears the faint sound of splashing water in the distance, and he is sure that Makoto is singing, as Rin often complains about him doing (but mentions anyway, as if wanting to show off that he _can_ ). 


End file.
